


They Say It's Your Birthday, We're Gonna Have a Party

by Gingersnapspn



Category: The Beatles
Genre: F/M, First Time Writer Long Time Fangirl, I wrote this a birthday gift for my sister, I'm Bad At Titles, It's Sort of an AU Because there's a legit fifth Beatle just because, My First Work in This Fandom, You can swap the main characters name for your own if you wish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 05:40:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4654446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingersnapspn/pseuds/Gingersnapspn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would you do if your best primary school friend was the fifth member of The Beatles and she invited you to the set of their latest movie as your birthday present? Suffice to say a romance with the drummer of said world famous band might just be on the cards...</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Say It's Your Birthday, We're Gonna Have a Party

"Oi gerrup!" yelled my brother, Jonas. "C'mon, Lilo, get your lazy arse outta bed!"  
"Need sleep." I moaned groggily through my mass of bedcovers and pillows.  
I heard my older brother sigh, exasperately, and heard his heavy footfalls on the carpet, telling me he'd gone downstairs. Yet another pair were coming up the stairs and into my room as I put my head underneath the covers again.  
"Yer ready?" I heard a distinct accent say to me. I turned to find my best mate, Louise, staring at me.  
"Five more minutes, Lou." I begged of her, my head popping out of the covers, and giving her a pleading look.  
I hear her chuckle as my mattress sinks as a new weight is applied to it and I find that she has sat down and is staring at me, trying to look unimpressed. "C'mon, Li, you said you'd come, the lads'll be there!" Oh, yeah, not only is she my best mate she's also the fifth member of The Beatles. Yup The Beatles! Yeah, I squealed when I heard that too.  
I sigh. "Le' me get dressed." I say as she starts pushing me out of my bed.  
"Hey!" I yell when I suddenly land on a pile in the middle of the floor, sprawled there looking up at Louise with a furious expression on my face. "Louise Michelle Armstrong I will personally kill you if you do that again!" mock lunging at her throat.  
She screams out in mock horror: "Don't kill me I was led astray!"  
"Stop quoting John's lines from A Hard Day's Night would ya?!" I cry rolling my eyes.  
"He doesn't mind." she replies, a hurt expression on her face. "Now, get dressed and we'll go. Richard'll kill me if I miss another hour of shooting."  
"Yes ma'am." I reply, giving Louise a hasty salute as she rolls her eyes and walks out of the door to wait for me shutting it with a soft click of the latch.  
The clock ticks as I search through my wardrobe for something which is actually presentable, and stylish, obviously, and not something that my (former) best friend Molly had given me. She always gave me clothes that either made me look like a tramp, or, were too small or big for me.  
'Well, she isn't friends with one of The Beatles.' I thought in malice and glee inter-mixed together. After I settle on something which I deem suitable - a white blouse top, and a blue skirt.

"I'm ready!" I shout, racing down the stairs and into the kitchen to see Louise drinking a cuppa tea, and Jonas eating some burnt toast oozing with butter.  
"Ready?" Louise asks me, placing her cup on the sideboard and thanking my brother of the tea.  
"Yes." I cry, almost jumping up and down in my excitement, biting my lip in an effort to calm myself down and hold the giddiness of the fact that I'd see actually see The Beatles in the flesh.  
We arrived at the set at about 11 o clock or so. It was a hive of activity, with cameramen, set dressers and other crew members scurrying about, getting everything ready for the next couple of takes. Louise had led me to the side of the set, where the four men who I wanted to see the most, were sat on chairs, talking and laughing aping at themselves. Their laughter was snuffed out, but their eyes held a glimmer of interest as they saw us approach them.  
"Who's this, Lou?" asks Paul, giving me a smile.  
I was getting to that, Macca." She flatlines to him, sending him a glare. Paul holds out his hands in apology. "Leah, this is Paul, Paul this is Leah." She says, gesturing to us both and we move to greet each other with a firm handshake. He smiles, brown eyes alight with a curious mixture of excitement and query. Seeing his looking and recognising it Louise scowls at him and snaps, "No, McCartney yer can't flirt with her, it's not you that she likes, yer see."  
Paul coughs quickly, meeting Louise's eyes and having the grace to at least look a bit guilty at having his intentions being guessed so easily. In an effort to rebound from his embarrassment he turns to me again and says, "That's a lovely name." before giving me a wink, so that I blush and look away.  
I may not like him but that still doesn't mean that he can't make me blush.  
He turns to Louise and says: "I'll endeavour to find out who it is that she likes, rest assured she will be mine!" he says, laughing evilly.  
Louise chuckles and punches him softly on the arm. "Yes, Macca, whatever you say." Her tone is laden with sarcasm. She starts to grab me by the hand but a sharp yell of "OI!" by Paul brings her attention back to him. Raising her eyebrow she gives him a questioning look.  
Paul smiles and says, "Oh, by the way, Lou, George wants yer. He didn't say why though."  
"I can guess." She whispers softly to herself, averting our gazes. Recovering herself and trying to direct our attention away from the blush that is currently blooming across her face she addresses Paul in what she hopes is a calm, collected manner, "Right, well, Ta for that little bit of information, Paulie. I'll go and see what 'e wants. See you later Leah." she replies, giving me a fleeting smile before she heads towards the door, out of the set and off to find George. "Sit down! Paul won't bite." She cries, head turned back towards us both, giving me a smile as she gets further towards the door. "Much." She jokes, finally rounding a corner and disappearing.  
Leaving me and Paul here, together.  
Alone.  
I sink into her seat, my knees almost buckling with nerves as Paul grins yet there is silence from both of us and we avert our gazes at one another. I get the sense that Paul is doing his best to be polite but that he seems a bit unnerved by my talkative nature. I hear him mutter something under his breath and I sigh, looking around anxiously.  
We both jump instantly at the sound of footsteps clacked on the floor. "Oi Macca! Who's the pretty bird?!" John Lennon's voice yells across to Paul as he walks over to investigate. We are both thankful for this as it has shattered the uncomfortable silence that had been hanging in the air so thickly.  
"A friend of Louise's." Paul says, giving John a thankful stare. John grins, wolfishly, his eyes glinting at the information, as he slips his glasses of his nose. "Oh, aye?" He says, looking directly at Paul and straight through me. His eyes are scrutinising us both, in a strange sort of way, and it's unsettling to the point of being creepy. "She's very pretty." he finally announces, with an air of detachment.  
"Aren't you married?" I ask him, my eyebrows knitting together in askance and a noticeable crease in my forehead, as he sits down next to me, legs crossed, his eyes boring into mine, and puts his hand on his chin.  
"Yes," he replies honestly, before pocketing his glasses and sending me a small smile. 'He was convinced I was gonna be a mentalist.' I think, ruminating on this for a couple of minutes.  
John speaks again, snapping me out of my daydream. "You and her'd get on quite well. Cyn'd like you." he replies with a smile.  
I return it. A mutual wary respect has been established between the two of us, and I am loathe to believe that this man could be the same who remarks so cuttingly in interviews about this and that. Anxious of not wanting to be left out of the conversation Paul asks John whether he has seen both Ringo and George.  
Nodding in agreement, John addresses his friend's question. "Aye, I have. George and Louise were talkin' together in hushed voices," Paul opens his mouth to speak at this point but John stops him before words can come tumbling out. "No, Macca, I dunno what it was about either, so don't ask me 'cos I don't know." John snaps, quickly.  
Paul sighs, his shoulders slumping on the exhale. "What 'bout Ringo? Where's 'e?"  
My heart beat fast, and instantly tried to hunker down further into Louise's seat in an effort to not bring attention to myself. My God, I love him - well, I've a soft spot for him, at the very least.  
"Last time I saw him he was outside, smoking a ciggie."  
"Oh, the bloody-" Paul starts to say but catches himself, coughs, and resumes talking - after John raises an eyebrow and looks pointedly in my direction as if to say 'Mind yer language - there's a lady present, we are supposed to be polite!' - "I mean the blumin' cheeky sod. Didn't even offer be one. Said 'e didn't 'ave any!" Paul scoffs.  
"Maybe if you ask 'im nicely e'll let you have one?" John replies, sarcastically.  
"Not bloody likely." Paul replied, as the two of them walked off looking for the disappearing Ringo.  
I sigh and wait, looking at my watch to keep track of the ticking minutes. Where are they?! I feel like screaming in desperation and frustration. Finally, I am saved from my boredom as I spot Louise in my peripheral vision dragging George along with her. Am I what they've been discussing for two hours? I doubt it but I deign to bring the matter up to them.  
"I found George." She begins grinning at me before her face suddenly turns into a storm of rage. "I'm sorry to say that I couldn't find Richard." Ringo's christian name is issued as a bite and Louise snorts, derisively. "Christ, that man's elusive."  
I can sense her exasperation at the drummer, but turn my attentions to George who is patiently waiting for me to acknowledge him.  
"'Lo." I say, giving George a smile and a wave, which he returns.  
"Hello. What's yer name?" he asks, grinning lopsidedly. He has a more approachable air than that of John, less solitary too in that respect, and a less flirty nature than that of Paul. There is a quiet, aspect to his nature I suspect but it doesn't manifest itself in our conversation. Louise is by his side, riddled with angst and I can't fail to see her anxious to get my approval on the guitarist. She's almost jumping up and down for Christ sake, looking like an ostrich trying to fly.  
"Leah." I reply, returning the smile.  
"You never told me she was this pretty, Lou!" he cries, turning to her in disbelief.  
Louise blushes, coughs into her hand, and does not meet my eyes and I instantly want to reassure her that no harm has been done. Trying to regain composure she makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat, her eyes darting left and right as she thinks of what to say, and rebukes him. "You are my boyfriend you know Harrison! Anyway, she doesn't like you she likes -"  
"Ringo." they say together, her slight Welsh accent, mixing with his Scouse accent.  
I blush again, hotter than before, as George holds out his hands in supplication. "You can trust me, I'm not gonna give anything away. You've me word." he replies, giving me another smile.  
I nod, speechless, bowled over in disbelief. "Umm, thanks, I guess." I reply, instantly looking away from them both down at my feet, suddenly embarrassed.  
"It's okay." they both reply, before walking off so suddenly, to find the other three boys, that I have to strain my ears to hear them. "We won't tell 'em anything."

The five of them filmed a fight scene in the set of what was their house. The five of them were scrabbling about, their limbs flying everywhere that I couldn't help myself and giggled, prompting a laughing fit by nearly all the crew members who were on set, that filming had to stop so that we could 'all regain our composures' - the words of Richard Lester, not me!  
They broke for a break halfway through the afternoon.  
"This is good, eh?" Louise asks me, taking a drink of water and grabbing an apple to eat.  
She starts to juggle three of them up in the air - making me want to collapse with laughter at the face of concentration that she makes - before a voice says: "Lou, it's bad to play with yer food, you know."  
She squeaks in surprise, and cries: "George! Don't do that!" smacking his chest.  
He laughs as she makes a face at him and grabs the apples put of her hand, returning them to the table.  
"Sorry love. Couldn't help it." he replies, teasing.  
"Damn it, Geo!" She hisses, eyes narrowed. "Just don't do it again. 'Kay?"  
"Yes ma'am!" he replies, chuckling, brown eyes shining in mirth.  
Ringo comes up towards us, giving us a little wave, hands fishing in his pocket for something, as he holds out his hands in an effort to let us know he doesn't want us to move away.  
"Ah, look, here his is!" Louise cries, and, out of the corner of my eye, I can see her and George exchange a glance and wry smiles, as Ringo glares at her, hearing the note of teasing in her voice. "The famous Ringo Starr, found at last!"  
"Where've you two been?" Ringo enquires, a hint of worry in his voice. "I've been looking all over the set for you."  
Louise snorts. "We've been doing the same." She grumbles, but the drummer takes no notice at her barb and states, "Got a ciggie for yer, Geo." He finally manages to draw the packet of cigarettes out of his suit pocket after his mad scramble, flicks the lid open, and offers one to George. The lead guitarist, mutters out a "Thank you," and takes one, stuffing it into his trouser pocket, with the intention of saving it for later. "Lou d'you want one?" Ringo asks, holding the packet out to my friend.  
"Na, thanks all the same though." Ringo nods in deference to her wish, withdrawing the packet and placing it back into his pocket. "You know what my brother'll say: "They're bad for yer, they're bad for yer." God, I'm sick of 'im. He's like my dad. Both wanting to drive me nuts and both succeeding." she replies, shaking her head.  
Ringo accepts this reasoning with a sympathetic look, and, as he turns to address George again, he notices me. "Who's this?"  
"Leah. One of Louise's mates, from 'er primary school days-" George begins.  
"Before I moved here and met you guys." Lou finishes.  
"Oh, I see. Well she's..." Ringo trails off.  
"Cute?" Louise cuts in, giving me a smirk and wiggling her eyebrows. I raise an eyebrow and give her a glare as if to say 'Don't say that you dolt!'  
"I dunno she's very... pretty." he blushes a bright shade of red, before he quickly turns to me so Louise and George can't see his face. "Leah's a nice name." He says, giving me a smile as we shake hands.  
I try to ignore my heart beating so strongly in my ears, my blood pounding at a furious pace as I feel my cheeks heating up as our handshake slows and we unclasp our hands from each other.  
I swallow audibly, my voice suddenly going high and squeaky at being complimented. "R -Ringo's a nice name too." I reply, my voice wavering with nerves and my palms are suddenly slick with sweat as I try and keep calm.  
He chuckles and accepts my compliment through a laugh.  
"We'll leave you two to it then." George and Louise say together, starting to walk away. "We're all gonna go out and have a smoke." I hear Louise order, before both she and George grab John and Paul, who are sitting down in their chairs. The two men are sopping wet from braving the stormy British weather in order to already have a fag, and are observing everything in quiet amusement, as they are hauled to their feet. Both men have disgruntled looks on their faces and they are clearly not amused at having to leave the spectacle that they so desperately want to see. Louise and George are doing a fine job at ignoring the two songwriters protestations about their apparent lack of both cigarettes and lighters ("We've just used ours!" John cried as Paul yelled "'Ey! Gerroff, this suit's new. I don't want to go back out there! My skin's soaked right through to the bone!") as well not wanting to go back into the rain that awaits them outside.  
However, George and Louise's hopes of giving us privacy are dashed, as Paul has cottoned on to why they are leaving and, unable to contain his excitement, cries out, "So that's who she likes then!" and grins triumphantly, proud at having figured their reasoning out.  
"Move Macca!" George growls, eyes flashing in warning, as he pulls Paul away from me and Ringo.  
"But!-" Paul protests, like a naughty or wanting child, trying to pull himself the other way in an attempt to listen to mine and Ringo's conversation.  
"Macca move, now!" Louise and George yell, shooting him a glare as Paul grumbles a few choice curse words and does as they say. John sighs, shakes his head, and surrenders to Louise's pulling at his arm, and the party wanders out of the door.  
I turn back towards Ringo and giggle nervously as Ringo looks straight ahead as his friends go out the door and laughs at the spectacle that has just occurred.  
"So you like me, eh?" he asks, once he has turned back towards me, a small smile on his face.  
"Yeah, I do. To be honest I hoped that the fact that I fancy - I mean like you,"- I quickly corrected myself, seeing Ringo's surprised face - "Wouldn't come out of here."  
"Ah I see." he replies, nodding his head in understanding, barely hiding his smile behind his hand.  
"So uh.... you're not weirded out by all of this?" I ask lowering my head ashamed to meet his eyes.  
"Well, I am a bit."  
I instantly snap my head up and meet the drummer's eyes. His voice has a touch of resignation about it and his eyes have a touch of melancholy in them.  
Ringo, seeing the shock and sadness on my face, says: "Why me? I mean the others are more handsome than me! All I do is play the drums and get ribbed for me massive hooter all day long."  
"I like you nose. It's very handsome. I mean all of you is handsome!" I cry, nervously wringing my hands together, the sweat on my skin making them sticky. 'Damnit brain! Can you not say anything that doesn't involve me blushing my face off?' I chastise myself.  
Ringo laughs, "I'll take that as a complement!"  
I smile, as he says: "Lou told me it's yer birthday today?"  
"Yeah, yeah, it is. I mean Lou's birthday present was taking me here to see you guys film - I mean who wouldn't want to see you guys film? - but that's the only one I've had...." I trail off. "Why d'you ask?"  
"Cos I'd like to give you one - a birthday present I mean."  
"Oh?" I say, holding out my hands to receive the present.  
"No, love, it's not an actual 'present' present - it's a.... well uh..." Ringo stops, clearly both flustered and embarrassed at himself.  
"A what?" I ask quietly, calmly awaiting my present with a look of feigned nonchalantness. 'Please, God, don't let it be a snake or something!' I pray silently to whoever may be listening.  
"A kiss." he replies ducking his head.  
"Oh?" I reply, blood rushing to my face and heartbeat thrumming through my ears.  
Ringo laughs nervously, voice no more than a choked whisper as he says, "I mean if you don't want it then.."  
"Oh, no, you're fine." I reply, hastily, before he can retract the offer.  
He smiles. We both laugh. Out of the corner of my eye I spy the other four, who have quietly filed back in and look like four drowned rats on the sidelines, watching intently as our lips meet.  
Louise squeals, like a child, with delight, yet suddenly remembers where she is and composes herself, giving me a thumbs up as John and Paul both whistle and cheer, George shakeing his head and laughing quietly at the childish antics of his mates.  
'I never want this to end.' I think as Ringo kisses me once more.  
"Happy Birthday to you." he whispers when we break from it.  
I smile "Thank for the best birthday present." and kiss him once more. 'Yes,' I think, 'Happy Birthday to me.'


End file.
